


The Whimsical, Wondrous Adventures of the Automatons

by jaysayheyyy



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Gen, but mostly fluffy fun, general foolishness, just some little snippets i write for funsies, more tags as the stories come out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:20:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaysayheyyy/pseuds/jaysayheyyy
Summary: The Walter automatons get quite bored, you see, and shenanigans are an inevitability with them.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. The Noise

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's Ash. I'm writing something that doesn't deal with heavy topics? Woah?? Kidding, kidding. I wrote something silly and then I thought 'hey, I could write more of this and people might like it', so here we are. Comments and constructive criticism welcome!!

Hatchworth burps. 

Well. Robots don’t really burp, don’t they? Rabbit looks at him weirdly. He stares back just as weirdly. Spine flips the page of his book serenely, ignoring their tomfoolery. This is typical. Even if it’s very out of the ordinary for robots to burp. 

“Did--” Rabbit starts, and then stops, trying to comprehend what just happened. Did he just, like, make the noise? Or did he actually burp? How would he even-- Steam hisses from her vents with her wild confusion. “What?” She eventually settles for, because nothing else seems to fit quite as well. Hatchworth stares. And then he shrugs. And burps again. He almost looks sheepish with that one, a hand over his mouth as he laughs awkwardly. “Stop.” Rabbit says, sounding affronted. 

“I can’t.” Hatchworth replies mournfully. “It’s just happening, Rabbit, I can’t control it--”

“No, oh my God, stop.” She presses, setting down her sheafs of paper. “You’re-- you can’t make that noise.” 

“Why not?” Spine pipes up, still not looking up from his book. He absentmindedly adjusts his fedora. “Is it illegal?” There is nothing but casual curiosity in his voice. Rabbit gapes at him. Blinks. 

“Well, no--” Rabbit starts, but Hatchworth’s “hmph” has her fumbling for an explanation. 

“Then he should be able to do it.” Spine effortlessly speaks over her. Rabbit makes a sort of muffled screaming noise and throws her hands in the air dramatically. 

“But robots can’t burp!” She argues. But she knows it’s futile by the disinterest on Spine’s face paired with the smug triumph on Hatchworth’s features and passive-aggressively straightens her messy pile of papers, tapping them against the table loudly. Even when they’re perfectly aligned she turns them and continues making the noise, staring at Spine with determined, mischievous eyes. Waiting for him to--

Thunk! Rabbit falls backwards onto the couch dramatically, her hand hitting the cushions a few times before she finds the book that had hit her straight on the noggin. She lifts her head to see Spine already reading another book, groans dramatically, and throws her arm over her eyes. For a moment, quiet. Then. . .

Hatchworth burps.

Rabbit goes feral as she leaps over the couch to chase him down, the brass bot letting out a very undignified yelp as he flees, with Spine not even looking up as he flips the page in his book-- even if he wasn’t really reading it.


	2. Rabbit's Spaceship

“Rabbit, I don’t think this is a good idea.” The Spine says, leaning against the banister with his elbows comfortably settled along the wooden railing. His brows are slanted inwards in the robotic equivalent of a grimace, though there’s an amused tilt to his lips as if he’s not sure to be afraid for his siblings for resigned to their fate. Rabbit scoffs and adjusts her position, precariously sitting in the very flimsy plastic laundry basket she’d obtained. Behind her The Jon looks up to his brother with a grin, his blue eyes alight with curiosity and excitement. 

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Jon asks, cheekily tempting fate.

“Alot.” Spine says, because that’s really the only way he can respond without going on a tirade about exactly why this was one of the worst ideas they’d ever had. Sure, he’s a bit curious to see exactly what would happen, but he rather not be at the cost of watching his siblings lose a limb. Or several, with how steep the staircase is. He appraises their shoddily put together contraption, their “steed” that would carry them to guaranteed victory, or so Jon claims. It’s a bit sad, really. In essence it’s a laundry basket with random blankets and pillow thrown inside, a random piece of paper taped to the side that someone had hastily scrawled “quesadilla” on. 

It isn’t going to save Rabbit from losing her head, literally, but Spine isn’t going to step in either. He shrugs and lifts his fedora to ruffle his dark locks, looking up at the ceiling as if to ask why he of all people had to chaperone this endeavor, and concedes defeat. 

“Alright.” Spine says, knowing he’s going to severely regret ever allowing this (and since when did he allow things, anyway? Rabbit was the oldest!). Jon and Rabbit cheer, the basket wobbling as it loses balance momentarily. Rabbit rushes to put her hands back on the front of the basket with a slightly perturbed look, but her bravado doesn’t fade. 

“Ready, Rabs?” Jon asks, wringing his palms against the handles of the basket excitedly. Rabbit visibly gulps, steam hissing from her vents nervously. Spine thinks distantly that this is almost as nerve wracking as when they went to space. Which is honestly ridiculous, but he’s resigned to the happenings around him. Rabbit runs her fingers along her hat like they do at shows before Automatonic Electronic Harmonics, solidifying her persona as the cowboy-vigilante about to traverse the wild lands of their stairs, and gives Jon a solid nod. 

“Whenever you aAAAAAAAAA--” She’s rapidly cut off by her own scream as Jon shoves the basket as hard as he can, cackling madly as Rabbit goes soaring. Not down the stairs, mind you, but over them like she’s really in some sort of space rocket. It’s horrifying. It’s magnificent. Everything seems in slow motion as Rabbit’s expression of rampant glee turns to something that can only be described as “oh, shit”. It’s like Spine is watching in slow motion as the basket begins to turn over itself, Rabbit and her protective blankets tangling in a heap with a muffled assortment of sounds of metal hitting the ground. 

Spine stares at the wreckage. Jon cannot stop laughing. For a moment, Spine is unsure if Rabbit even survived her epic journey, awestruck by the scene he’d just witnessed. Then, a hand lifts from the heap of blankets and pillows, a single thumb raised into the air. Jon’s laughter picks up in hysteria and volume. Spine facepalms.

Just another day in the manor, he supposes.


End file.
